


Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost, But Lance Is Just In Denial

by AgeofCipher



Series: Lance, Lance, And More Lance [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Can We All Agree Space Sucks?, Enjoy My Senseless Protraying Of Myself As Lance, Got Pretty Dark, I've Completely Made This Lance A Wreck, Interpret However You Wish, Jealous Lance, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Lance Has Issues, Lance Is Good At Lying, Lies, M/M, Meant To Be Something Regarding Insignificance, Mentions of Violence, Mostly A Vent Fic, References To Actual Planet System, Short, Space Sucks, Tagged As Mature Because Analogies Get Weird, This Gets Somewhat Weird, Ugh, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-16 23:16:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8121439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgeofCipher/pseuds/AgeofCipher
Summary: Lance hadn't meant to let his mind drift this much, to fall into unpleasant thoughts and 'truths' about himself. Lance is used to being able to push the thoughts away, effectively losing memories by blocking out the thoughts, losing vast amounts of time in his life, but tonight? Lance is going to let himself ponder just how bad everything seems.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this isn't fluffy or happy or anything, and everyone besides Lance is mostly mentioned. Sheith is implied. Lance's train of thought mimics my own, focusing on a lot of bad details quickly rather than slow processing.
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoy this drabble that leans more to vent drabble than anything with real substance, I suppose.
> 
> PS: This hasn't been proof-read! I just quickly wanted to post this, though I will go back later and edit it and make sure it's corrected, but until then, comments telling me about the mistakes would be greatly appreciated!

Lance leaned back, kicking his legs up and crossing his ankles, folding his arms behind his head and stretching, ignoring the uncomfortable pulsing of muscles in his thigh, twitching out of control although the rest of him was still.

 

Cool air filled the observatory, Lance’s hot breath creating a small cloud in the room, the silence thick as stars glowed above him, some hologram and some within view. A small smile graced his face, blue eyes strained.

 

Thoughts swarmed inside Lance’s head, threatening to shove him under the metaphorical waves and drown him in the murky depths of his flaws. Dry laughter bubbled out of him, filling the room as Lance was near hysterical, the reality of  just _how screwed_ he was set in. The blue paladin again fell silent as the beginnings of tears began to well at his eyes, threatening to creep down his face and create a physical mess.

 

The chilly air caused an involuntary reaction, Lance shivering and drawing his arms around himself instead of propping his head up, and as Lance laid back on the floor his shirt rose up, exposing his flushed skin to the frigid metal of the ship. A hiss fell from his lips, and a tear fell, racing down his cheeks to splash at his collar, being absorbed into the cotton shirt.

 

Images of how cold-eyed Keith would be around him closing himself off creeped into the already off-rail train of thoughts that belonged to Lance. Those images were compared to how Keith acted with everyone else, not entirely open but willing to initiate conversations, to how _different_ Keith acted around Shiro. With Shiro, Keith blossomed, growing and sanding down his edges, forming into something that resembled perfection, confusing Lance and causing Lance to grow distant, still alive inside but hope dimming, emotions too complex and muddled for any sense to be made of them.

 

Sometimes, sometimes Lance wanted Keith with every fibre of his being, unable to keep his eyes and thoughts away from the red paladin. Other times Lance was filled with a burning hatred, cursing as a storm brewed inside him, ready to snap at Keith. More often, it was a mix of many things, admiration, loathing, hatred, love, lust, despair, hopelessness, depressed. The only reason Lance was still standing was alone was from the talent he’d perfected over the years, having his complex lies easily bought as he’d been able to believe his own lies, but simple ones so much as “I was late because of Keith,” being exposed as lies.

 

Thinking of it, no one had ever really bothered to ask Lance if anything was wrong with him, as focus was on Shiro and not setting off his PTSD, on Pidge and keeping her hope alive while not lying to her, Keith and how he needed to take care of himself better, on Hunk and how fragile he could be as his heart extended to everyone on the ship, on Allura and how she was a crown princess of a planet and race that had long ago been wiped off the face of the universe. Lance’s issues weren’t valid, not in his eyes, as he simply did not have reasons like the rest of Voltron, trauma like Shiro, too much love like Hunk, the complex brain of Pidge, the grief of Allura, Keith’s inability to treat the human body correctly. So what if Lance couldn’t sleep? If he couldn’t eat? What did it matter that one paladin (clearly, the one that could easily be replaced) had days when he couldn’t get up, and other days upset that he didn’t feel human, out of sorts and knowing that deep down, Lance was extremely flawed. Lance had so many issues, feeling bitter even though he played an arrogant role, torn between missing the family he didn’t have the approval of to quaking with bloodlust and aching to cut down all of his enemies.

 

Lance knew he couldn’t be loved, knew he shouldn’t love, couldn’t love, and he found himself attracted to Keith anyways. Lance swore up and down that it was all insignificant, in the grand scheme of things he was a small part of the universe, ready to be swallowed up by nothing and become nothing, a physical form gone, no longer plagued with the very things that disgusted him about his body, which grew more and more apparent to himself every day.

 

Lance’s voice didn’t surprise himself, monotone and indifferent, cutting through the thick silence as a starving wolf would cut through an injured lamb. “Isn’t it funny? I remember being a little kid and wishing on stars, saying ‘one day, I’ll be among you.’ I hate being in space, I don’t enjoy the fighting unless I’m on a high. Space has taken me away from the toxins I had grown used to being pumped with, the ‘normality’ that had become a constant in my life.”

 

The room felt as if it was spinning, slowly, moving and trying to trick Lance. “But now I’m living the dream of little kids who cannot imagine anything better, fighting the bad guys and piloting a giant space lion, older than what I can bother to think to. I miss the fake freedom of home, where I could imagine fleeing the country, leaving and erasing myself to become someone else.”

 

It was different now, and all Lance could relate to was the planet orbiting two stars in the system OGLE-2007-BLG-349, impossibly far away from the two things he was centered around. Keith, and how impossible existence really was, how weird and fucked up it was.

 

A sigh escaped Lance’s lips, and his eyes fluttered closed, turning himself off, a frigid mix of oxygen, argon, nitrogen, water vapor, and carbon monoxide entering his lungs and moderately warm amounts of nitrogen, oxygen, and carbon dioxide entering and escaping from his mouth, filling his lungs and simultaneously deflating them.

  
_Peaceful,_ Lance thought.


End file.
